


A Team to Count on

by Lancre_witch



Series: Villains Club [2]
Category: MediEvil (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, No longer restricted by the competiton I have included an unholy number of Memedievil references, Zarok's first day in London from the Count's point of view, and the series will continue in a similar vein, another introductory fic like Enemy of my Enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancre_witch/pseuds/Lancre_witch
Summary: The Count had hoped to spend his day (and night) in the best company London could offer. Palethorn's latest ally rather ruined his plans.(With apologies to @drowsy-nelapsi, who owns Zaezel)





	A Team to Count on

 A mound of blankets and pillows could just be discerned in the darkened master bedroom of Wulfrum Hall. The morning sun was shuttered out and nothing but gentle snores broke the comfortable silence.

The peace was shattered by a blast of static and mechanical sounding whirrs and beeps, and the tangled knot of blankets suddenly sprouted a slender blue arm. It felt around the bedside table, patted the alarm clock, and paused.

"No..."

The Count stuck his head out from under the covers and looked around the room blearily for the source of the disturbance. His eyes alit on the radio from which a crackly and distorted voice was emerging. Palethorn. Joy.

He extricated himself from the bed, careful not to disturb the other sleeping form and flicked the switch to answer.

"Ah, Palethorn. To what do I owe this surprise."

"I've found a very interesting passage in Zarok's spell book. Very interesting indeed. And I want you to see the results. Shall I see you at, say, eight this evening? I trust you will spend the intervening time accordingly."

The Count glanced back towards the bed. "I intend to spend this fine day with my best friend, Sleep."

"But you almost never sleep," Palethorn protested.

"We are just going through a rough patch in the relationship," the Count said haughtily.

"You know your own mind best, I'm sure. Just try not to be late. For once even Jack's schedule lines up."

"In that case, should I bring Zaezel with me?"

"Who?"

"Zaezel!"

"Raziel?"

"No, _Zaezel!_ The demon!"

"Which demon?"

The Count tugged at his ears in frustration. " _ZAE_ \- ugh, never mind. The line is terrible."

He flipped the radio off* and turned back towards the bed. He snuggled back under the covers, seeking out his partner's warmth. The demon stirred and cuddled up to him.

"Who were you talking to? I heard voices."

The Count kissed Zaezel's neck. "No one of any importance."

Suddenly, sleep was no longer at the forefront of his mind.

_________________________________________  
*No, not like that. He is a gentleman, after all.

*

Jack was still getting used to life amongst the undead. Palethorn had given him power, true, but the spells had come with a whole host of weird creatures. The zombies and shadow demons were mindless beasts - he didn't have to wast his time with them, but the vampires worried him. They were intelligent - some, he suspected, far more so than Palethorn - and powerful. It was a foolish and probably short lived man that displeased them.

He therefore decided that he should greet the Count cheerfully when he turned up just after sunset.

"Good, evening," the vampire replied in an accent so thick it had to be affectation.

"You're here early. We're still waiting on Lord Palethorn yet." He looked at the Count again. He was elaborately if somewhat tastelessly dressed, perfectly turned out except for- "It'll give you chance to sort your hair out anyway. It's such a mess, you should go look in a... uh..." He stopped, realising what he was about to say.

The Count's good mood dried up instantly. "Look in a what?"

Jack's face turned from green to a queasy pink. "Uhhhhh..." He fiddled with his claws.

"I want to hear you say it."

Jack was spared any further humiliation by Mander fussing in, prissy nob that he was. He waved at them desperately to sit down and mouthed "smile" before holding the door open for Palethorn and his newest ally.

The Count's eyebrows raised as Zarok entered and his scowl deepened at the necromancer's rant critiquing just about every part of their operation.

"I will not stand to be insulted like this."

"Sit, then," Zarok shot back. "None of you would have lasted five minutes in Gallowmere."

"You think I, who have stalked the earth for a thousand years, am afraid of a little skeleton creature? Pah!" The Count spread his wings and raised his head, the very image of affronted pride. "For centuries, I have-"

"Allow me to have a word with our guest," Palethorn cut in quickly to stave off another monologue. He took Zarok by the arm and marched him swiftly out of the room.

One the door was closed he rounded on him. "The Count is our most powerful ally. I don't want you annoying him."

"You mean so he doesn't start another speech like that one?"

Palethorn said nothing.

"Well I suppose I wouldn't be here if I wasn't willing to put up with some measure of bullshit in order to get my revenge. I'll try to hold my tongue."

"Try isn't good enough. You've got to apologise to him."

Zarok looked genuinely puzzled. "Why?"

"Because it's the mature and adult thing to do."

The blank look was still in place. "How does that affect me?"

Palethorn put his head in his hands and groaned. It was going to be a long day.


End file.
